In the Lair of the Mountain Beast

by James Moloney

  ‘Then we’re as good as dead,’ said Dorian.

  ‘No, wait — don’t give up,’ Olanda insisted. She looked around, wild-eyed. ‘The grotto. Could we survive in there?’

  Dorian managed to take her eyes off the circling helicopter long enough to consider this plan. ‘The petrol fumes have drifted in there as well. The air will burn, same as out in the open.’

  ‘Not if we can keep out the flames, it won’t,’ Aden replied, giving them another slim hope to grasp at. He began to climb the boulders.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Berrin cried.

  ‘We need a way to plug the hole.’

  After a final longing glance at the cool waters of the pond, Berrin sprang onto the nearest boulder and scurried over the surface like a monkey. When he stumbled, Jasper was thrown from his shoulder. The little rodent ran on ahead, leaping easily from one rock to another until he joined Aden at the top. Berrin was soon there with him and, not long after, the girls came as well.

  ‘Can we use that rock to block the hole?’ Berrin asked, pointing at a small boulder nearby. It wasn’t much bigger than a watermelon.

  ‘It would have to fit snugly,’ Aden said. ‘We can’t afford to let any flames through.’

  While the girls kept an eye on the helicopter, Berrin and Aden rolled the rock to the hole. One final heave and … it fell straight through.

  ‘What else could we use?’

  They looked around, but before even one more possibility came to mind, Olanda screamed, ‘The rockets!’

  Berrin swivelled violently on his heels in time to see two thin plumes of smoke mark the course of the rockets as they shot away from the helicopter.

  ‘There’s no more time!’ cried Dorian. ‘We can’t seal the grotto. We have to jump into the pond. Otherwise we’ll all die in the blast.’

  She was already on her way to the edge of the rocks where Olanda had tried to throw Berrin into the water only the day before. Olanda went after her and Berrin too. But he stopped after a few paces. Where was Jasper?

  Looking back, he saw the little rat still at the opening. Towering over him stood Aden, who hadn’t moved.

  ‘Come on, bring Jasper and follow us,’ Berrin called. ‘We have to be in the water by the time the flames reach us.’

  ‘It won’t do us any good.’

  ‘But you can’t stay here. There’s only seconds left.’

  Aden wouldn’t budge and by now the girls had realised it. They turned and came back to Berrin’s side. ‘Into the water, now!’ Dorian shouted into Berrin’s ear.

  ‘But … Aden!’

  Olanda had never been one for gentle persuasion. When Berrin still wouldn’t budge, she grabbed him by the arm and started to drag him backwards.

  Berrin shrugged her off. ‘Aden, come on!’

  ‘Help me,’ Olanda cried to Dorian, who still held the sack of captive moths.

  Dorian couldn’t fight with Berrin and keep hold of the sack. It dropped at her feet and, with Olanda taking a stronger grip on Berrin’s left arm, she grabbed the right.

  Berrin braced his legs and the girls battled to move him even a centimetre. ‘Aden, save yourself,’ he shouted. ‘Come with us into the pond!’

  At that instant, the rockets exploded into the lush grass of the crater’s floor. The petrol-laden air took up the flames, multiplying them a million times and sending boiling clouds of fire outwards to every corner of the tranquil valley. Paradise had become hell.

  Aden turned to watch the flames roaring towards them for the briefest second, then took a step towards his companions. But only one step.

  ‘I know how to do it,’ he shouted. ‘I can plug the hole. Get down into the grotto, all of you. I can save you!’

  The girls weren’t listening. They continued their losing battle to get Berrin over the edge and into the water.

  ‘Aden, Aden!’ Berrin cried in desperation.

  But the boy’s hope-filled words had distracted him and, in that moment, Dorian and Olanda took their chance. They nudged him off balance and dragged him backwards to the edge of the boulders. With Berrin still shouting Aden’s name, they stepped off into midair. Down they plunged, all three, into the green water of the pond. Their momentum carried them even deeper, three metres, four, until they could barely see. Then the whole world turned to gold.

  The surface was suddenly too bright to look at and, despite the depth, a searing heat reached down to them, forcing them lower. There was nothing Berrin could do for Aden now. He stopped struggling and swam with the girls to the bottom of the pond. As their feet sank into the mud, the terrible light above them died as quickly as it had come alive and the pond’s water became unnaturally dark. The rocks, strangely bright and visible seconds before, seemed to disappear.

  By now, their lungs begged for air. But above them lay death. There was only one alternative, even though it might kill them as well. The grotto.

  Olanda kicked out, working her body like a fish, leading them towards the submerged boulder that she recognised more by feel than by sight. She disappeared beneath it, then Dorian, and finally it was Berrin’s turn. His lungs were ready to burst. What would he find inside the grotto? Would his first desperate breath fill his lungs with flames?

  He broke the surface and, unable to resist, took a deep breath.

  No pain, only relief. The grotto was as dark as their home in the tunnels. The gentle splashing of water told him that Olanda and Dorian were close by. Their heaving breaths echoed around the hard surface of the boulders. Gradually, their breathing returned to normal and they could speak.

  ‘I can still smell petrol,’ Olanda said.

  ‘Yes, but not as badly as outside before the blast,’ said Dorian and Berrin had to agree.

  ‘So what happened?’ Olanda asked. ‘Why didn’t the air in here burn as well?’

  Before any of them could suggest a reason, a faint squeaking reached Berrin’s ears.

  ‘Listen, it’s Jasper,’ he said. ‘He made it into the grotto before the flames came. Maybe Aden … Yes, Aden must have plugged the opening after all. That’s why we can’t see anything in here — the hole at the top is blocked.’

  He hauled himself out of the water and began to stand up until his head cracked against a rock.

  ‘Aden, can you hear me?’ he called, rubbing his head. His anxious words boomed through the confined space. ‘You found a way to plug the hole! You’ve always been the lucky one. Answer me, Aden, are you up there on the ledge?’

  But the only voice that answered was the echo of his own.

  ‘He might be injured,’ said Dorian. ‘Maybe he’s unconscious, up near the opening.’

  ‘I’ll go and check,’ said Berrin, feeling his way along the face of the rocks.

  ‘No, I’ll go,’ Olanda said. ‘You don’t know this cave as well as I do. If you fall, you’ll break a leg and then we’ll have to leave you here to die anyway.’

  Berrin knew Olanda would rather die herself than leave him behind, but he also had to admit she was right about the dangers. ‘All right, you go. Aden, can you hear us?’ he called again.

  There was still no reply. Instead, the darkness resounded with Olanda’s grunts as she worked her way upwards. When the sounds were no longer distinct, they knew she was onto the ledge that lay below the opening.

  ‘Have you found him?’ Berrin called.

  Olanda’s response bounced off the rocks like a crazy ball. ‘Not yet. I’m feeling my way around the ledge.’

  She went quiet and Berrin knew better than to keep badgering her. She would call out when she found him. But Olanda didn’t call out. They picked out her cautious scrambling as she sought footholds on the steep walls of the cavern.

  ‘She’s coming back,’ said Dorian.

  With a final grunt, Olanda was with them again beside the water.

  ‘Did you find Aden?’ Berrin demanded.

  ‘Yes, I found him. He wasn’t on the ledge like we expected, but he’s up there.’

&nbs
p; ‘How is he? Is he unconscious, like Dorian said?’

  Olanda took a deep breath then reached through the darkness in search of his hand. ‘I’m sorry, Berrin. Aden is dead.’

  ‘Dead! He can’t be. He plugged the opening, didn’t he? He saved us.’

  ‘Yes, he saved us, but he couldn’t save himself,’ Olanda said sadly. ‘You see, the thing he used to plug the opening was his own body.’

  THIRTEEN

  A Dead Landscape

  BERRIN FELT THE COLD STONE against his back. He knew he was inside a cave, even though he could not see its walls. He had survived the terrible blaze meant to kill every living thing inside the volcano’s crater, yet he didn’t much care.

  Aden was dead, a victim of those flames, another victim of Malig Tumora. How Berrin hated that name. Once it had belonged to a man. Now it conjured up images of blinking lights and electric circuits all devoted to a ruthless evil.

  A movement close by reminded him that he was not alone. Olanda had been sitting beside him since he first came to this place to grieve. How long had they been here? He could only guess. She had hugged him gently when he cried. ‘I’m so sorry, Berrin, so sorry,’ she’d whispered. Now she held his hand in the darkness. He was grateful for the comfort.

  ‘I wasn’t always very kind to Aden,’ Olanda confessed. ‘I was jealous of him, because he was so close to you.’

  Berrin squeezed Olanda’s hand for a moment. Their own friendship had never been in doubt but Berrin knew he’d neglected Olanda since Aden came into his life. ‘I’m sorry if you were left out a bit. Aden needed a friend, that was all. He was afraid of the future, you see. He was afraid that human beings wouldn’t accept him, that he would always be one of Malig Tumora’s experiments, a freak.’

  ‘Is that why he was willing to die?’

  ‘It might have been part of the reason. But mostly I think he was braver than we ever realised. He wanted to defeat Malig Tumora and he was ready to give his own life to do it.’

  They fell silent again until Dorian called from across the grotto. ‘It’s been hours and hours now. It could even be dark outside. We can’t tell. How long do we have to stay in here?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Berrin muttered. ‘Aden was the one who knew that sort of thing.’

  A whole day, he thought. Had his mind been drifting for so long? He couldn’t go on like this. Giving way to grief would not bring Aden back. He couldn’t stay separate and alone in this corner of the grotto forever.

  ‘We have to wait until the crater has filled with fresh air again,’ he called to Dorian.

  ‘But the air in here will suffocate us if we wait too long.’

  ‘You’re right. We’ll have to try our luck soon,’ Berrin said.

  He stood up and moved to where the waters of the pond lapped inside the grotto. Then, without telling the girls what he was going to do, he dived into the pitch black and under the rocky overhang until he was into the pond itself. His eyes stung at the first hint of daylight. A deft kick and he was heading for the surface. There was the blue sky dancing above him, offering not a hint of the deadly fire that had swept beneath it hours earlier.

  Moments before he reached the surface, the fear he had pushed aside returned to confront his courage. If fresh air hadn’t yet penetrated the crater, then he would die, like Aden. But he didn’t turn back.

  When his face broke free of the water, his mouth opened automatically. He took a deep lungful, then another. Though heavy with the sharp tang of smoke, the air replenished his lungs. He would not suffocate. For now, he wouldn’t die.

  Berrin stroked across the surface to the muddy shore and hauled himself out of the water. What a sight lay before him. The fuel–air bomb had done its job. Green had turned to black and grey. The trees stood denuded of leaves; the knee-high grass now looked like the stubble on a man’s unshaven face. Wisps of smoke rose from a thousand tiny fires, none of them with any flames on show. A flame needed something to feed on and across the entire floor of the crater there was simply nothing left to burn.

  Splashes behind him told Berrin that Olanda and Dorian had followed him out of the grotto. They too swam ashore and stood in awe before the devastation.

  The boulders loomed over them. Apart from some dark smudges, they seemed untouched by the fiery blast. But the children knew what lay out of sight at the very top.

  ‘You stay here,’ Dorian ordered Berrin. ‘Olanda and I will take care of Aden.’

  ‘No, he was my friend more than yours. I have to do this.’

  They climbed the rocks together and found Aden’s scorched and lifeless body wedged in the opening. Tears welled in Berrin’s eyes and tumbled freely down his cheeks. ‘He turned out to be braver than any of us.’

  They had nothing to dig a grave with, so they pushed Aden’s body through the hole until it fell onto the ledge below. Climbing through after him, they laid the body to rest as best they could. This dark sanctuary would be his tomb.

  ‘There’s his net,’ said Olanda, nodding towards the long pole.

  ‘Put it beside him,’ Berrin managed to say through a throat so tight with emotion he could barely breathe.

  They climbed out through the opening. Berrin and Olanda started on their way down but Dorian was searching for something. When she stooped suddenly, Berrin asked, ‘What have you found?’

  ‘The bag of moths,’ she answered, holding up its charred remains. She dropped it forlornly at her feet and joined them on their descent to the banks of the pond.

  ‘Listen,’ Berrin whispered.

  The girls did as he asked.

  Olanda frowned. ‘Listen to what? I can’t hear a thing.’

  ‘That’s just it,’ Berrin said. ‘Not a sound. No birds, no crickets chirping, no bees buzzing from flower to flower, no butterflies.’

  ‘No moths,’ said Dorian, finishing the thought for him. ‘What was that word Aden used? Extinct.’ She swept her arm around in a wide arc to take in most of the crater. ‘Nothing can live here now. Our best chance to free the grown-ups has gone up in smoke.’

  ‘Our last chance,’ Olanda muttered.

  ‘Yes, our last chance. We may as well leave right now,’ Dorian said with a sigh. ‘We’ve had no food for a day and there’s nothing left to eat in this crater.’

  Mention of food reminded Berrin of Aden. Would he think of the boy every time he felt hungry, for the rest of his life? ‘At least Malig Tumora thinks we’re dead,’ he muttered miserably. ‘Those heat-seeking machines won’t be searching for us any more.’

  They began to gather their meagre possessions. The ratpacks had been burned and so had the rope they used to climb down from the crater’s rim.

  Dorian eyed the steep slopes above them. ‘The heat has melted a lot of the snow. Maybe we can make it without the rope.’

  They did have their swords still, and the crossbow, which Olanda had tossed into the pond before the blast. She dived into the water to retrieve it and afterwards stood inspecting the weapon.

  Berrin realised the girls’ minds were already on the way home. Was he ready to leave Aden’s body behind so quickly?

  ‘I hope we don’t meet any monsters on the journey back,’ said Olanda. ‘I could only save a few bolts. Maybe Jones will help me make some more.’

  Monsters! Berrin turned to stare towards the walls of the crater. There it was, the dark opening. ‘The mountain beast,’ he said.

  ‘What are you talking about, Berrin? Come on, get your stuff together. We have to get going,’ Dorian ordered. But when he didn’t move, she stopped her own preparations. ‘What are you thinking?’

  ‘They might not be dead … at least, not yet, not all of them.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘The moths. They might still be alive, hundreds of them.’ He raised his arm and pointed. ‘If we survived inside a cave, then maybe they did too.’

  The girls came to stand with him, one on each side. They were staring towards the cave now as well. �
�Still alive,’ whispered Dorian. ‘You mean there’s still a chance to destroy the purple flowers.’

  ‘Yes. If we can capture moths from the mouth of that cave, like we did last night, there’s still a chance.’

  ‘But, Berrin,’ Olanda said, through lips suddenly as dry as the desolate landscape around them, ‘that cave is the lair of the mountain beast.’

  FOURTEEN

  Crazy Brave

  ‘WHAT IF THE MOUNTAIN BEAST comes out of the cave?’ Dorian demanded.

  ‘It didn’t last night,’ said Berrin.

  ‘But it might tonight! Maybe we were just lucky last time. Maybe the beast decided to have a sleep-in. It will be nice and hungry by now and ready for a feed. We all saw the tracks down here. And what about the roar we heard? Something that size would frighten a Gadge.’

  ‘I’ve got the crossbow,’ said Olanda, to show where her loyalties lay.

  Berrin sent her a smile. He had neglected Olanda shamefully when Aden joined the Rats and there had been times when her jealousy would not stay hidden. But she would always stand beside him. He couldn’t ask any more of his closest friend.

  ‘All right, all right,’ sighed Dorian, who had read the signals as well. ‘We’ll wait until it’s completely dark — and let’s hope the moths come out of that cave before the mountain beast does.’

  Berrin climbed down into the grotto one more time to fetch the long-handled net from beside Aden’s body. He practised swinging it to and fro above his head, though there was nothing to catch in this barren landscape but floating particles of ash.

  Olanda checked the crossbow. ‘Four bolts, that’s all we’ve got.’

  Daylight dimmed to dusk and then to moonlit darkness. On the walk to the cave, ash puffed up in clouds with every step they took. In fact, the ash could help them, Berrin realised.

  ‘Rub it onto your clothes and skin, and your hair as well,’ he told the girls.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘To disguise our scent.’

  After this explanation they followed his example with enthusiasm. By the time they reached the cave’s entrance, they resembled three grey ghosts.